


Soulmate Culture

by sunriseandsunshine



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 18:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunriseandsunshine/pseuds/sunriseandsunshine
Summary: Soulmate culture, as Shane referred to it, was stupid. In his very single opinion, it was a way to give people like him hope. Assuring that, yes, they will meet their “other half.” It allowed companies to sell dumb products to pander to these singles and make fortunes off their search for this elusive soulmate they had grown up hearing about.Ryan keeps telling him that once he meets that perfect someone he’ll think different.Shane keeps telling him he’s full of shit.





	Soulmate Culture

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna say, i started this on august 27 ish at 5am and it is now sep 24 at 7pm that im finally posting it. we stan a dumb bitch. 
> 
> between then and now: i have started high school, gotten a boyfriend, came out to my parents as bi, lost my best friend, started a bfu meme account ( @shanesbergaras go follow it) and had a terrible fight with my mom. 
> 
> some points while i was writing i was so happy i could only express it through writing about them, other times i was so stressed with school that i wanted to cry as i did this instead of work and others i was so sad i was doing it to get my mind off evertyhing. 
> 
> im so proud of this story. thanks for choosing to read it. 
> 
> -hayley

He’s never understood soulmates. Sure, he remembers hearing things about them but he never believed. Shane didn’t believe in much. Only things he could see, taste, smell, hear and touch. Scientific facts that could be through experiments that followed the method. Soulmates just..don't.

Anytime a friend would get married, he’d hear a member of the wedding party say they're soulmates. They're simply “made for each other." (whatever the fuck that means.) Fate isn’t decided by some higher power, it’s in your hands. He knows that fate isn’t why he ended up working for Buzzfeed, or hunting ghosts with his best friend. His desire to work in film was. Ryan, of course, did believe.

At Steven and Andrew’s wedding, he delivered a speech with the lines, “...These two are made for each other. I wasn’t always sure about the trueness of soulmates until them,” Shane held back an eye roll at that.

Ryan was optimistic about the existence of things he couldn’t prove. He trusted people. At these haunted locations, he trusted his gut feelings. Leaning into the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Facing his fears if it meant proving to Shane that ghosts are real. Shane understood, sure, but he didn’t believe it. He didn’t have faith in things he couldn’t prove, like Ryan. He envied him in that regard.

Shane wanted to believe. His only problem being his brain, which never shuts up, not allowing him to. Explaining away creaks and bangs as the wind or the house settling. The spirit box as a junk science device made to torture him. blaming sleep paralysis for people’s supposed visions during the night. Ryan believed it all. He took these people at their word and jumped at every sound. His brain didn’t immediately take a scientific route. Opting to go the paranormal one instead. It only made sense that his brain would work the same when it came to soulmates.

Soulmate culture, as Shane referred to it, was stupid. In his very single opinion, it was a way to give people like him hope. Assuring that, yes, they will meet their “other half.” It allowed companies to sell dumb products to pander to these singles and make fortunes off their search for this elusive soulmate they had grown up hearing about. They explained away the high divorce rate by saying, “you need to have faith!” or “good things come to those who wait,” and not addressing the actual issue.

Ryan keeps telling him that once he meets that perfect someone he’ll think different.

Shane keeps telling him he’s full of shit.

“Soulmarks” are only a thing in literature, but an increasing amount of people will post obviously edited photos of them with their significant others and matching colorful marks. It makes him want to gag. Not only at how fake it is, but also how straight it is.

Soulmate culture includes a dark and homophobic underbelly. It’s beginnings most likely in the Catholic church stating, soulmates exist to prove to the human race that homosexuality is unnatural. Preachers have begun telling their churches these lies, resulting in more and more cases of LGBT children getting disowned by their religious parents who have bought into these lies. It’s the part of soulmate culture that's swept under the rug to keep pushing these gimmicky products to consumers who are desperate to find a soulmate of their own.

Shane hates the way his brain works. It would be easier if he could buy into the lie, be drawn in by the flashy and colorful packaging of these soulmate tests. But he isn’t. He isn’t hardwired like these other people who are able to buy these things with no shame. He’s as desperate, though.

The older he gets the harder it becomes. When he turned thirty he told himself he’d find someone any day now. And as a bisexual, you’d think he’d have upped his chances at finding someone. Nope. He’s single, painfully so, and going across the country to dusty buildings to hunt ghouls with his best friend.

Ryan, to his credit, doesn’t buy any of the cliche soulmate items. He believes, yes, but he’s never bought a test and the most he’s done is take one online. Shane’s taken one of the online things, too. At four in the morning, a sleep-deprived zombie in need of a break from his Ruining History research, he took a soulmate quiz. The results said he had already met his soulmate, confirming his suspicions about the reliability of them.

He hates even thinking about soulmates. It’s a juvenile thing to him. Mostly due to the fact that the last time he had thought about them in depth was when he was a young child. His brain was more..fun and imaginative as a seven-year-old. Allowing him to ponder such philosophical things as the existence of soulmates and even ghosts without immediately shutting it down in the name of science. But Ryan wouldn’t shut up about them at the bar last night so now it’s stuck in Shane’s mind.

The longer he thinks about them, the more down the rabbit hole his brain goes. These thoughts have opened a can of worms and his one fucking brain cell is bouncing off the walls to push together the pieces of the soulmate culture puzzle he’s created for himself.

He texts Ryan and complains. Ryan is happy he isn’t shutting down the idea immediately, taking it as a win. Shane calls him and demands he comes over so they can bicker in person. He does so, happily.

“Finally you’re here,” Shane says.

He shuts the door behind him. “Awe..you miss me, big guy.”

“No,” He sits. “You’re drunken ramblings about soulmates sent me down a spiral.”

Ryan chuckles to himself, “Nice.”

“Nice?” Shane repeats. His face begins to flush with the bubbling anger and frustration.

“Dude, do you know how many times I’ve done,” He gestures to Shane, “this.”

He rubs a hand down his face. “Oh fuck no, I can’t become you...you--you’re a clusterfuck of fuckin’ anxiety.”

“Thanks?”

“I have this Google doc with ten thousand words. All about soulmate culture!”

Ryan peers over at Shane’s open laptop. “Can I read about this...soulmate culture?”

“Yes..but, fair warning I’m not sure how much is actually intelligent and how much is incoherent rambling,” He says.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He sets it in his lap.

He switches on the TV as Ryan reads through the long document. Shane didn’t get a chance to read it over himself, as soon as he realized he had been awake the whole night and the sun was now up, he texted him. He watched Ryan as he read, his face sometimes contorting with confusion or trying to hold back a laugh. He gets to one point and can no longer hold it back, letting out a chuckle at something. “What?”

Ryan takes a breath to regain enough composure to read. “Ryan Bergara is an idiot about many things like ghosts and aliens. He’s also really smart about other things like research and editing..it’s a fucking coin flip. He might be an idiot or smart about this. My money is on idiot, though.”

Shane laughs. “God, I should remember writing that.”

“It’s very...you.”

“Good way or..?”

Ryan taps a finger to his chin a couple of times to seem he’s in deep thought. “Both.”

He laughs, “That’s fair.”

Shane doesn’t know why this whole soulmate thing is bothering him. Ryan’s brought it up multiple times over the course of their friendship and never has it prompted him to write an essay. He assumes it’s about his current relationship status but he’s been single the last three times it’s been brought up so that doesn’t hold up too well. He allows his brain to wonder if it’s due to his feelings for Ryan. Feelings he has shoved down so far, to think about them is to reach into the belly of the beast.

After the show started, he had to. Ryan has already lost a co-host, he wouldn’t put him through it again. And he had a girlfriend. A sweet, pretty, intelligent girlfriend with lot of jokes to make him smile. Ryan’s girlfriend was a nice person, the type you couldn’t hate even if you wanted to. That’s when the denial started.

He told himself he was confusing friendly feelings for romantic (sexual?) ones. His perpetual state of singleness was taking a toll on him. Making him think of his friend as something more because of their constant closeness. Not because of anything real.

They had an amazing friendship. One that was built on shared interests, trust and respect which deepened their connection more and more as the days, weeks and months flew by. He convinced himself he was confusing this platonic connection for something it wasn’t even if the thoughts kept popping up. And always at the most inopportune times. Such as every time they share a bed or sleep in close proximity.

Every. Single. Time.

Without fail, even the prospect of sleeping near him makes his face, neck, and ears heat up with the juvenile arousal he feels from it. And every single time, he pushes it back down. Further and further.

“Shane,” Ryan says.

His sudden removal from that..risky train of thought is relieving. “Yeah?”

“Do you know why I believe in soulmates?”

“No, I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

Ryan places the laptop onto the coffee table. “Every person I’ve dated has never felt right. I mean, mostly all of them were wonderful people. Helen, Marielle, y’know.” Shane nods. “But, being with them didn’t bring me the happiness I saw in my parents or some of my married friends. And I just...knew, I knew that they weren’t the right person for me because that person was still out there.”

Shane looked at him, scanning his face. “I can understand that.”

“Shane, I get that your brain doesn’t work the way mine does. But, thank you. For trying, at least, to be open to the idea of aliens and ghosts and cryptids. It means a lot that I have someone willing to listen to all this shit.”

“Anytime, Bergara. Anytime,” Shane says.

It’s one of the few soft moments of their friendship. They’re rare, fleeting little snippets that leave him feeling a warm and fuzzy tingling in his stomach. Even the memories bring the warmth rushing back to him. Twisting his stomach into knots, not of fear or nervousness, but of an earnest fondness that is ever so present in these small moments between them. It reminds him of how deep the connection between them truly is and how lucky he is to have it in his life. How lucky he is to have Ryan in his life.

He presses play on the TV and hears Ryan mumble something about not liking the show. “You want to find something on Netflix while I pop some good corn?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Ryan giggles, accepting the remote from him.

He gets out his popcorn and pan, heating up his stovetop. Microwave popcorn was good but nothing could quite beat the taste of it when it’s popped on the stove. They agree on that, for sure. He lets it heat up, pouring the bag in and peeks his head into the living room to see what Ryan found on Netflix. He’s scrolling through Parks and Recreations episodes. “Nice choice,” Shane says.

Ryan jumps, startled by him. He chuckles at him for a moment. “You could seriously mess up a ghost, why the fuck do you get so scared?”

“You can’t punch the air, Shane!” Ryan's face is flushed.

“Sure you can; watch.” He starts to punch at the empty space in front of him.

Ryan laughs, “Idiot.”

He puts the popcorn into one of his designated bowls, bringing it out to Ryan. He’s got his feet up on the coffee table in front of him, laughing at the show. “Dude, you look like Ben.”

“I do not,” Shane says.

Ryan takes a handful of popcorn from the bowl. “You definitely do. Look in a mirror and then look at Adam Scott and you’ll see what I’m seeing.” He waves a hand in front of his face.

“Get out of my house.”

He tosses a few kernels at Shane. “And now you’re wasting popcorn? Un-be-fucking-lievable.”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan chuckles, lightly hitting his shoulder with the back of his hand.

They were back to normal. His thoughts about them being more than friends have returned to the dark corner of his brain where they normally reside. Lurking. Patiently awaiting the next opportunity to crawl out and bite him in the ass. He knows he needs to confront them. That is, after all, the healthy thing to do. He hasn’t decided if wants to move on or tell Ryan but he knows the longer he waits the worse it will be.

The longer he goes on pretending as if nothing was there, the less of a nothing the result becomes.

And he knows this, yet he has no clue what he even feels. The idea of them becoming boyfriends is overwhelming, in what way, he isn’t quite sure. But a part of him wants that. Wants the domesticity, the comfort, the closeness with someone, with Ryan.

This picture in his head of a house in the suburbs, similar to the one he grew up in, with a real lawn that’s green, unlike the dried yellow mess in California, and bushes with gorgeous pink flowers that smell as he imagines heaven does. A cobblestone walkway leading up to their front door with a pink bike, adorned with training wheels, obscuring the path. He’ll grumble something about how his kids take after Ryan’s laziness, putting it over in the grass. And when he opens the door, said kids rush to the door to give him a hug. His husband greets him with an endearing nickname such as “honey,” or “sweetie,” and a kiss on the cheek that makes the kids grumble. The smell of whatever they’re having for dinner cooking, wafting in from the kitchen. This picture is bliss.

The realization isn’t much of a shock to him. Sure, it rattles him a bit, but these thoughts have been lingering for a long time. This is only the first time he’s put a face and a name to the spouse in that scenario. It’s the first time Ryan has been in that scenario. And, he likes that version of the scenario, he admits to himself.

He again thinks of soulmates. This is one of those rare moments when he wishes they were real. That the kits you buy from Walmart were reliable or the tales of soulmates having the same mark were true so he would know if he should pursue it or move it. That alternate universe where they exist must be an easier one than this one, in that regard at least. The implications of that, the bad outcome, are enough for Shane to never speak up. The show means a lot to him, it means a lot to Ryan, too.

When Brent left, Ryan was hurt from it. He blamed himself, even if the reason had nothing to do with him, thinking if he was a better storyteller he wouldn’t have left. It killed Shane to have to watch him go through that, so much so he offered to fill in for him. The moment when he said it, a twinkle of happiness appeared in his eyes, going straight to Shane’s heart. Ryan looked lighter after Shane had said what he said. Sure, he still seemed a bit saddened that Brent didn’t want to do it anymore, but he looked relieved to now have a co-host again. Relieved his show wasn’t ripe for cancellation anymore now he had someone else. Shane never wanted to see Ryan like that, ever again.

He had ignored his feelings long enough, though. Shane knew this. His only option is to get over him, enjoy what they do have. A strong friendship and a hit show with a dedicated fanbase. If he focused on that, not on his feelings, he should be fine. Ryan means too much to him, he’s not sure what he’d do if he lost him. He can live with never being more than friends, though.

Ryan’s a fixture of his life now, whether he likes it or not. He does but that’s beside the point. It would completely fuck over his life. Shane enjoys routines, he finds himself settling into them easily, and when one of them changes it takes a while for him to adjust. Being with Ryan most of his days, weeks and months, is one of those routines. It’s the most important. His whole life would have to change.

It’s human nature to resist change, Shane knows, but it’s also human nature to want to spend your life with someone. These two innate things inside of him are at odds, battling for the driver’s seat to make Shane silent or able to speak up. He thinks sleeping on it will help, maybe that’s wishful thinking, but it’s all he’s got. It’ll plague his mind until he finds a way to shut it off and fall asleep. Thoughts bouncing around the walls of his head until the melatonin silences them.

Waking up that morning, Shane is hurting. His stomach is aching as much as his heart now and he concedes, calling his supervisor and then Ryan to tell them he can’t come in today. It’s unfortunate that he has to miss a day of work but at least he has time to work through his mental health while his physical health isn’t at its best. He’s forcing himself to see the bright side of this, not pity himself for his feelings or getting behind on some work.

Disregarding whether they actually are real or not, he lets himself entertain the idea that soulmates do exist in some..alternate versions of an Earth like Earth-2 or something to that effect. He contemplates why they would exist, sure to ensure that humans don't go extinct, but more on a deeper level. Setting his coffee down, he opens his laptop and begins searching for any possible theories from psychologists or experts on this.

Most websites give him the same answer: soulmates exist to compensate for your weaknesses and boost your strengths. “Soulmates,” is purely a term meant to define this person who seems to be your other half.

And seeing it put that way, it clicks: Ryan is his soulmate.

With this, he feels as though he’s reached a philosophical epiphany of sorts. Giving him a weird flutter that may be nausea he’s mistaken as having a deeper meaning but nonetheless everything is falling into place for Shane.

Ryan’s the perfect opposite for Shane. Their differences don’t clash, they complement each other. Ryan is brave, albeit sometimes irrational, push to discover new things and step out of his comfort zone to Shane’s calming inertia. He prefers staying where he’s comfortable, sticking to routines and finding beauty in ordinary things. Whereas Ryan wants to be on adventures, or at least learning new things, and brings Shane along to help him remain tethered to Earth.

And Shane just knows, they’re meant to be together. The only problem is if Ryan is on the same page. Hell, he’s not completely sure Ryan’s even into guys like that. Shane deflates. The magnetic force putting all the pieces together suddenly loses its magnetism and the puzzle breaks apart, pieces scattering before him. He curses himself for not thinking ahead before getting his hopes up that high. Shane prides himself on being the type of person to think through things completely before jumping to conclusions, especially when those conclusions hold as much weight as this one.

His mind raced, thinking up every possible way to ask Ryan about his sexuality. Sure, he could directly ask him but he might get suspicious. He could ask one of his friends to flirt and ask him on a date, using his reaction to gauge his further options. But the bottom line is, there is no right way. The only thing he can do is ask him.

Ryan, his ears most likely burning, texts him that he’s on his way with homemade soup. Shane is somewhat relieved, somewhat anxious. On the one hand, this is the perfect opportunity to ask him directly if he’s into guys or not, but on the other, he wants to write down everything before accidentally saying something he doesn’t mean at the moment. This train of thought and worrying is cut short by a knock on his door.

He opens it to Ryan, soup in hand as promised and a goofy smile on his face. “Hey,” He says.

Shane gestures to come in. “How was work without your best pal?”

“Boring, if I’m honest. I kept..turning to you to ask or say something and you weren’t there. I figured you’d appreciate this, though.” Handing him the soup.

“Ooooh, is it chicken noodle?”

“Duh,” Ryan laughs.

Shane pops open the still warm container, pouring it into a bowl. “You, Ryan Bergara, are the best.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He turns to look at him. “You just...Han-fucking-Solo-ed me.”

“You bet your big head I did.”

They settle onto the couch, Ryan catching him up on what happened that day. He was right, it seemed mostly uneventful besides Steven spilling coffee all over himself. He’s a bit sad he missed that and all the jokes that could have spawned from it. It seems to be as normal as any other time they’ve done this, with the oh so great addition of Shane’s feelings. The distance between them does feel abnormal to him. He’s hyper-aware of how close he is to him. Occasionally smelling Ryan’s cologne or hearing his small sighs and giggles during the show. Things he’s never paid attention to before, are suddenly all he can focus on.

The small distance between them feels too much. He finds himself craving more. Craving Ryan. It’s this paradigm shift for one end, as the other is blissfully ignorant of the war being waged in Shane’s head. Somehow it feels natural, yet unnatural, to have Ryan be his sole focus in this current moment. As though, the awkwardness and his worries about Ryan’s sexuality not lining up with his own, are clouding the moment. Fogging it up and preventing it from feeling as it should.

He turns to look at him then. Eyes on the show, a small smile on his face lingering from a previous joke and a contagious feeling of content. He must sense Shane’s eyes on him as he turns his own head to make eye contact with him. His smile gets fonder as he stares at him. Shane knows, this is the moment to ask but the words are clogged behind his anxiety. Instead, he redirects his attention to the small bit of soup left in his bowl. He plays around with it as his head plays around with his options.

Shane’s sick of thinking things through. He doesn’t do things without a reason and he’s fucking tired of it. He wants to kiss Ryan. Screw being sure of everything, he feels what he does and so what if he doesn’t reciprocate. At least, for once in his life, Shane could be bold. Do something impulsively instead of with careful deliberation. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t lean in. Doesn’t press his lips to Shane’s. Doesn’t…

Ryan goes home and he feels like a failure. He had his chance and he fucking blew it. Of course, he did. He got up in his own head, screwed things over and is left to wallow in his self-pity over it. Over something completely caused by him.

He didn’t kiss Ryan, yes, but he’s not going to wallow. His laptop is open to Docs and he writes all his feelings down. He gets them out on paper and into the world, forcing them to ‘live somewhere other than his head. Reading them cements the idea to him that Ryan is his soulmate.

There’s no doubt in his mind that Ryan, in his position, would’ve leaned over on the couch and kissed him. He’s got the kind of courage Shane can only dream of and the perfect amount of impulsive and afraid that keeps life fun and interesting while being sustainable. His fear holds him back from doing truly dangerous things but not enough that he doesn’t face them.

Ryan’s afraid of things like ghosts and demons and that has never held someone back from telling someone they love them. Being afraid of change like Shane, does. It did.

Shane’s half-asleep self remembers to set his alarm for work tomorrow. His bed feels soft and he welcomes the rest. He’s had thoughts racing through his brain for two days straight. He needs a break from it. Some part of him knows he shouldn’t be too hard on himself, especially about this, it’s who he is and it’s not exactly easy to change that in the span of a couple of days. It’s the thought that matters in the long term. Starting small and working up to bigger things.

He decides to take it slow. Starting with more flirting and touching him more. Making an effort to show Ryan he has feelings without telling him outright. It’s not the best idea but, it’s all he’s got right now. All things considered, something is better than nothing.

His plan, for the most part, is going well. Shane starts simply: brushing past him in the kitchen, lightly hitting his shoulder when he makes a funny joke, allowing himself to get closer than he used to. He’s not sure Ryan is getting it though.

Ryan is acting like normal Ryan. If Shane throws out an extra flirty joke, he’ll do what he normally does, throw one right back at him. He seems like he isn’t picking up on it but rather, carrying on business as normal. Blissfully unaware of how Shane much is struggling to show him he feels...something, however, Ryan wants to interrupt that. And right now? Ryan is interrupting it as nothing out of the ordinary. Just his good ol’ pal Shane Madej.

So he steps it up.

He invites Ryan, TJ, Mark, and Devon out for drinks to celebrate the success of the new season. It’s been a month since he’d decided to start flirting and enough time has passed that Shane’s flirting is normal, being extra touchy or flirty while drunk won’t be too shocking. Besides, he’s a cuddly drunk and so is Ryan.

That’s why them sitting together is expected. Their knees and thighs are pressed tight together in the booth of the bar. Every time he makes a joke, Ryan leans into him and he gets even drunker with every lungful of his shampoo. His legs are becoming Shane’s personal space heater in the already hot bar but he wouldn’t dare move an inch. Ryan doesn’t seem to find either, judging by his constant shoulder and foot taps. His face is flushed from the alcohol and he’s had a smile the whole night.

Ryan’s in rare form. Not that he isn’t normally happy but never this happy. Especially to be at a trying too hard to be boujee LA bar on a Thursday night. Shane likes this Ryan.

Mark is the first to leave, mumbling about his girlfriend as he said his goodbyes. Devon is soon after. TJ sticks around for longer, chatting with Ryan about basketball in a way Shane doesn’t have the brain capacity to but he catches the time and gives a hushed “fuck,” before leaving.

“We fuckin’ did it, man,” Ryan says.

Shane bumps his shoulder. “Yeah, little guy. We did.”

“Thanks for everything this season. I think it was the best to date,” He rests his head on Shane’s arm.

It takes every bit of self-control for him not to groan as he does. “Why’s that?”

Ryan loops his arm around his. “Dunno, we were just...funnier, this season. Y’know?”

“I think I know, yeah.”

“You’re the best co-host I could ask for.”

Shane rests his head on Ryan’s. “Ditto.”

He counts it as a victory. Even though he’s going to have a wicked hangover and about 2 hours of sleep, it’s worth it. Shane can’t remember the last time he’s been this content. Especially in a bar, with Edison lights and mason jars, but he finds the atmosphere...romantic, at the moment at least. It’s then that he hears the music, soft indie music to perfectly fit the atmosphere the place is trying so hard to create. From the lyrics, he gathers its a love song and he makes a promise to himself to never forget this moment. The way Ryan’s laying against him, the music, the lights, the almost fake bar sound. If he wasn’t afraid of ruining the moment he’d pull out his phone and take a sound byte.

Ryan looks up at Shane expectantly. “Let’s get out of here. Take a Lyft back to your place.”

“You want to call or should I?” Shane pulls his phone out.

“I’ll call it in,” He says.

He clears their tab and steps outside where Ryan is. He’s finishing the call as he comes out, holding up one finger. “They’ll be here in a few.”

“Cool. Cool,” Shane says.

There’s odd energy settling around them. A suffocating tension that’s been building for longer than he’s realized. Ryan breaks their eye contact, staring at his shoes. Shane keeps his gaze trained on him, admiring him in all his drunken glory. He’s always thought he looks cute when he’s drunk. His face has a constant blush to it and his laughs get louder and it’s not hard to make that happen. He loves how happy he is.

When Ryan looks back up, the tension returns and more. It’s increased, whether it was Shane’s thoughts or just the linear building of it all coming to a head, he gets closer to Ryan. Shane finds himself leaning down as he swears Ryan does too.

Their Lyft driver honks at them causing them to jump apart.

Shane wants to scream or cry. Or both. He was so close to everything he’s been working towards for weeks now he could taste. So close, yet so far. The space between them is noticeably larger than it would’ve been if that wouldn’t have happened. Ryan’s focused on his fingers. He keeps cracking his knuckles, something he only does when he’s nervous or frustrated. Shane guesses it’s the latter in this situation.

The walk up to Shane’s apartment is silent and uncomfortable. He jiggles his door open, gesturing for Ryan to go in. Shutting the heavy wood door behind him. Ryan flops down on the couch. He kicks off his shoes, laying his head against the pillow. Shane hands him a blanket. “Goodnight, Ryan.”

“Night, Shane,” He says.

His eyelids close and his breathing slows. Shane wants to press a kiss into his hair but he turns into the kitchen and grabs a glass of water. One for him, one for Ryan. He sets down an advil and the cup before climbing into his own bed.

Ryan was asleep on the couch when Shane finally managed to drag himself from his bed. Thanking his past self, he downed the water and pills. “Hey, Ry. Wake up, man.”

He scrunched his face into the blanket. “Five minutes,” He grumbled.

“We have to work today. Unless you want to call in.”

Ryan looked up at him taking the glass from his hands. “Fine.”

A quiet fell between them. It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as last night but it was lingering. Shane was at a loss. If Ryan didn’t want to talk about it, he couldn’t force him. But if he did, he isn’t sure that he wants to. If they don’t talk about it, put it behind them and simply ignore it all, it won’t be weird between them anymore. If they do talk about it, it could unnecessarily complicate everything.

The ride to work was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Both avoiding the topic, they tried to make general small talk about the weather or traffic. Nothing worked. It was still right there at the forefront of Shane’s thoughts. Showing no signs of digging its heels from the sand and leaving there.

Everything, just like that, felt weird between them. The whole workday they’re tiptoeing around the obvious. Shane wants everything to go back to how it was before but he’s not naive. He knows he has to confront this head-on or lose his best friend. And the latter scares him enough to make him throw everything out the window and talk to Ryan.

He knocks on Ryan’s door and waits. The sounds of footsteps are followed by him opening the door. Ryan musters up the saddest smile Shane’s ever seen. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Shane says.

“You want to come in?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan goes into the kitchen. Returning with two coffee mugs. “Here. Black like you like it.”

“Thanks.”

And again, it’s weird. The tension is becoming palpable between them it begins to close his throat. Ryan takes a sip of his coffee before setting it on the table in front of them. “Why are you here, Shane?” His voice is sad.

He sighs. “I wanted to talk.”

“About?”

“About last night.”

Ryan looks down. “Oh,” He says.

“Yeah,” Shane answers.

“Shane, there is no easy way to say this but I..” He looks up at Shane, “I like you. Have for a while now, actually.” He gives a sad laugh meant to break the tension.

“Ryan,” Shane starts.

He speaks again. “No. That’s..I don’t like you.”

Shane’s visibly confused. And hurt. “What?” His voice breaks.

“I..I think I love you, you idiot.”

“Oh.”

Shane tries to speak again but he’s cut off. “I know you don’t feel..feel this way about me but I need you to know. Fuck. I’m sorry I don’t want to screw up our friendship because of this, Shane. You mean too much to me and...Would you at least say something?”

He surges forward catching Ryan’s lips between his. The little Ryan Bergara part inside of him broke through finally.

The kiss is everything he thought it would be. And more. His lips are soft and full, moving perfectly with his. He bites at Shane’s lip trying to deepen the kiss. Shane pulls away and finds himself staring. His lips are swollen and red from the sudden and intense kiss. “I take it, you like me?”

“Love,” Shane answers. “I love you so much, Ryan.”

It’s his turn to initiate the kiss. Shane lets it get deeper this time. Not daring to pull away from this. The kiss, the moment, the feeling, the sounds. Everything is falling into place as though it was meant to be this way. As if it were destiny.

He shuts his brain off. Simply enjoying the present. Ryan’s got his thighs around Shane’s, grinding against him as they sloppily kiss on the sofa. Shane kisses at his neck, listening to his moans. They’re breathy and closer to groans but they’re turning Shane on either way. And at this rate, he won’t last too much longer.

For so long this has only existed in his imagination. He’s waited to feel Ryan’s body against his and now that it’s happening it feels so...right. He had worried about the possibility that being with him wouldn’t live up to the image his brain had made up. And it didn’t. The real thing is better than anything he could have ever conjured up.

The noises Ryan’s making and the feeling of their closeness is beautiful. The kind of beautiful that can only be felt, not seen. It makes him tingle from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Making him feel alive...and a little turned on. He sinks into it, attempting to take every bit of stimuli in to ensure he will never forget this moment.

He absorbs it. It flows through his bloodstream and into his brain where it nestles into a quiet part of his mind for later. In case he never gets to experience this again (or at least not with Ryan.) His heart sinks, even at the thought of it.

Shane pushes the thoughts out and lives in the moment. He’s sick of overthinking everything. Nothing good has come from it. He almost lost Ryan because of his inability to do things on impulse and be in the present. His brain rarely lets him do things like that, he has to fight for it. Ryan is worth fighting for. Ryan is everything to him.

He lets himself believe that they’re meant for each other. That they’re soulmates. It doesn’t require endless research and peer-reviewed papers to be true, he figures out. All that matters is what he feels. And he feels Ryan against him, a soft snore barely audible over the air conditioner, cuddled into his chest. Yeah, this is his soulmate. No debate needed.

The thought alone makes him feel lighter. He places a kiss to Ryan’s hair before closing his eyes again. If it were up to him, this would never end. He could stay here for the rest of his life. No more complications. Just Shane and Ryan. Together.

It’s not possible, he knows, but that doesn’t stop him from imagining it. It’s a lot easier than thinking about the reality of this. They’ll have to talk about this. Where they want to go from here? If they should go somewhere with this? All questions Shane doesn’t want to ever have to face.

The smell of Ryan’s shampoo is replaced by fresh coffee. It’s wafting in from the kitchen and Shane resigns himself to his fate. He gets up, scrubbing a hand down his face and putting his glasses on. The bedroom door is open halfway and he can hear Ryan mumbling along to the song that’s playing. Shane comes out of the bedroom. “Hi.”

Ryan jumps, clutching his chest and panting. “Fuck, dude. You can’t do that.”

“Sorry?” Shane offers.

“You better be,” Ryan laughs.

It isn’t awkward. Somehow this strikes him as weirder than it being awkward because...shouldn’t there be some? They’ve been friends for years and now they’re something else. What that he is, he sure as hell doesn’t know and neither does Ryan. It’s obvious they’re both winging it. Switching the control between the two and going with whatever happens.

They find themselves joking around and talking as though nothing had happened the night before. It’s a feeling of familiarity, even in this unfamiliar situation, that’s grounding him and his thoughts. He knows what Ryan will laugh at. He knows how Ryan likes his coffee. And now, he knows what he sounds like during sex.

Nothing about this scene is a characteristic of a one night stand. They’re eating breakfast, Shane in pajama pants that are too short and Ryan in his sweatshirt. His favorite coffee mug is sitting in front of him, still steaming. He offers to take him home, which Shane declines. He drove over here last night and didn’t feel like paying for a Lyft.

Ryan asks if he wants to go out on a proper date tonight. He sips his mug after, as though it wasn’t a pivotal moment in a relationship, especially theirs. Shane chokes out a yes and he gives him a relieved smile. He realizes, Ryan was nervous about asking him. Ryan, the guy with muscles the size of his head, was scared to ask him, ol’ lanky limbs, on a date.

They carry on their conversation, making plans for the evening. Agreeing to meet at the Italian place with the weird black and white photos covering the walls. It’s got a romantic but also grandma feel to it, perfect for a date between two people who’ve been friends for years before sleeping together after months of silent pining.

Shane heads home around noon. He takes a quick shower, cleans up his apartment, waters his plants. He feels lighter than yesterday, as though a weight has been lifted from his chest and he can breathe again. His music choice is cheesy 2000s pop songs that are perfect to sing along to as he sweeps, using the broom as a microphone rather than to clean.

He has a date with Ryan Bergara.

Every time he thinks about it he smiles. A dorky smile that makes his eyes crinkle up and makes laugh lines he didn’t even know had appeared. He had to meet Ryan at eight. Meaning he had to leave by 7:30 to get there on time and he had to be ready by seven to make ensure he had enough time to prepare in his date clothes and he had to figure out what he was wearing by six, or else he’d overthink it. And Shane, never overthinks anything, of course not. Why would he? It’s not like he has a date, finally, with the guy who he’s been in love for months with and only had sex with last fucking night.

Maybe he is freaking out.

His clothes are laid across his bedroom floor from his franticness. He grabs a shirt from the mess and stares at himself in the mirror for a moment. It’s a lighter blue flannel he’s had for years. It’s soft and fits him perfect. He decides its just right for tonight, finding a pair of jeans to match. In a way, he feels it represents Ryan.

This shirt is old, dating back to college, he estimates. Despite going through the washer more times than he can count it still smells like his frat bro friend’s shower in a can he sprayed all over it before a party. It reminds him of a simple time before he truly grasped how truly fucked up this world is. Obama was President. Things were good. It’s a feeling of familiarity that grounds him to Earth, much like Ryan. So while that relationship is changing, this shirt is a constant. It’s still got the weird button his ex’s mom sewed on for him. The white paint on the inside of it.

Memories upon memories flood to his head. He smoothes out the front, checking it out in the mirror. He wants to pat himself on the back for digging this one out from the back of his drawer. It’s a rope pulling him up from the whirlpool of change he thrust himself into. His phone buzzes.

Ryan had texted him that he was on his way.

Instantly, all the confidence he had been building shatters. He begins to panic once more, racing around his apartment like a mad man. Struggling to find his shoes or his wallet or a jacket or his keys...his sanity. He tries to calm himself, settling on a tan jacket instead of the jean one he was looking for. Remembering he always sets his wallet in the same place as his keys. Looking down and finding the shoes on his feet. The storm settles right in time as he hears a knock at the door.

The door feels heavier than normal as he goes to open it. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

And all his worries disappear.

The simple sight of Ryan’s smile, lopsided and kind, sends him hurtling back. He pats his back pocket for his wallet and keys. Locking the door behind him, they leave. Things begin falling into place as they walk together to Ryan’s car. It’s parked in its usual spot so it isn’t hard to find. There’s a comfortable silence around them.

The restaurant is a five-minute drive. Shane plugs in the AUX cord, as he usually does when he’s not driving, putting the playlist he made specifically for drives with Ryan on. It’s got all of their shared favorites and the occasional song Shane comes across and thinks Ryan will enjoy. It’s a staple of their car rides.

Parking is surprisingly easy on a Saturday night and they’re inside in record time. Ryan heads to the front of the long line. Shane tugs on his arm. “Dude, what-”

“Reservation for Bergara at 8:15,”

The hostess nods. Grabbing menus and leading them to a table for two. There isn’t anything too date-like about the place but it still feels intimate. It’s more of a hundredth date spot than a first but, somehow, it works. For them, at least.

Ryan opens his menu. He begins to giggle to himself. Tilting his menu towards Shane, he points to the cause of his juvenile laughter. One of the appetizers cost $6.90. “You’re such a fourteen-year-old boy,” He says as he hides his own laughter.

“That’s funny to all ages, Grandpa.”

“You call all the guys you like ‘Grandpa’, Bergara?”

Ryan puts his face into his menu. “What can I say, I have a kink.”

The waiter chose that moment to come over and introduce himself. He takes their drink order and leaves. They instantly burst into laughter.

Shane can barely remember why he was anxious. It’s Ryan. Of course, they would have a good time, date or not. Their conversation is easy and light. The tone has changed though, becoming more flirty and filled to the brim with all the want between them. It was easy to sink into the feeling. Let it wash over him and consume his mind, his body, his life.

He was addicted.

Something as simple as his knees pressed against his made him squirm. It was barely contacting, and yet, he knew why he had wanted this for so long. He’s not sure which came first though. The intense attraction he was feeling, even in an Italian restaurant with miscellaneous pictures covering the walls, was enough to quicken his heart rate and make him unable to think of anything but Ryan. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.

It was all he knew now. Every bit of information his teachers spent years drilling into his head had left, maybe the slope formula was still there haunting him but it’s unlikely. He was stuck on one thing; the man sitting in front of him, twirling spaghetti on his fork and grinning like he made a big discovery.

It may have been this big, pivotal moment in their lives, but it sure didn’t feel like it to Shane. To him, it was another night out with Ryan. Something to add to the growing collection of memories he has including him. He wasn’t sure what he was even expecting in the first place. Maybe he just thought it felt different to go out on your first date with your best friend in the whole world who means more to you than anyone else.

Maybe.

This has all been a big maybe to Shane. He nodded his head as Ryan’s rambled on about things, let him pick where they went to dinner, let him pick the time, let him pick the wine. Nothing about this was certain and he was very clearly playing it as safely as possible. He trusted Ryan’s taste. In restaurants, in wine, in the time of day to go. He knew he would pick a red wine, something in between dirt cheap and astronomically expensive. So he...let him. He would let Ryan have or do or say anything if it meant Shane got five more minutes with him.

They had developed a connection so strong, they could trust each other’s judgments. He isn’t sure he’d trust any other heathen in his office to pick everything about the first date. Ryan was underestimated. Sure, he was strong and mostly arms but he was a quick thinker who had amazing taste in food and drinks.

Shane didn’t know much about anything. He knew ghosts weren’t roaming the halls of Victorian homes and the only thing in all the sanatoriums they’ve investigated was dust. Creaky homes and the human brain were real; supernatural forces? Not so much.

He could understand why people believed though. It was comforting to think you weren’t crazy and imagining footsteps, but rather it was a revolutionary war soldier pacing above you forever damned to this mortal world.

And sometimes the evidence finally manages to turn a skeptic.

There is no other explanation for why he and Ryan have such similar tastes and thoughts. Soulmates had to be real or else this whole was merely a giant coincidence. Ryan would say conspiracy. Shane still has his wits about him, though. He feels he’s losing them fast. But that’s not a bad thing.

It’s a nice thought, really, to think you and your significant were made for each other and against all odds you found each other. How else were you to explain some of the things he and Ryan did, even before they knew each other. The way they scammed movie theaters for more free popcorn or loved sound prints of various places (Ryan preferred Disneyland while Shane couldn’t get enough of the almost faux bar ambiance.) These were odd things he’s rarely had in common with other people. Maybe one or two with a person but never as many as he has with Ryan.

As the waiter placed the check down they both reached for it. “No, Shane. I got it,” Ryan said.

“My hand touched it first.”

“Really?” Ryan tilted his head.

Shane giggled, pulling it towards him. “Yes, really. I want to.”

He lifted his hand off it with a huff. “Fine. Next time I got it,” He said.

“Next time?”

“Oh shut up.”

They walked out of the restaurant holding hands. It wasn’t exactly warm or cold but was instead hovering in between. Pleasant enough to get away with a light jacket, nothing more and nothing less. Shane enjoyed this weather, so did Ryan. That made walking back, instead of driving, to Shane’s apartment a no brainer to both of them. Shane didn’t even realize that was what they were doing until halfway there when he noticed they had been walking in the opposite direction of the restaurant parking lot.

The sidewalk was empty besides a couple of passers by. It was quiet besides the occasional car horn or a yell from one of the frat houses in the area, it was a Saturday night after all. They kept up a conversation as they went along.

Shane couldn’t wait to get back to his apartment.

Now that he knew Ryan felt the same, he wanted to make up for a lost time so to speak. He had been pining for so fucking long. And now, with Ryan pinned against his door, he couldn’t wait anymore.

Somehow, he had gotten even more beautiful in the past hours since they had started this thing. His heartbeat quickened at the mere thought of him, something he hadn’t experienced in years. It was addicting.

Ryan was addicting.

After the small taste he had gotten, he never wanted him to not be his. That’s what prevented him from telling him in the first place. The thought of them not being together, whether platonically or not, hurt. The kind that plunges itself through your heart and twists. He could only imagine how he’d feel if it did actually happen. Shane can only pray he never does.

Shane would gladly spend the rest of his life belly laughing at dumb jokes. Exploring haunted places until the dust stops him from breathing. Taking strolls through the streets with all the frats. If it meant he was with him.

That almost scared him. Ryan was why he stepped out of his daily routines and took risks. He let himself be uncomfortable if it meant Ryan was happy. And, honestly? It was worth it. Every particle of dust, every routine is thrown out the window, every unimaginably juvenile joke was worth it. As long as he was with him.

Ryan completed him. He was organized in his chaos, sure he’d yell at the wind but that didn’t mean he’d do it without a plan. Or at least his firm belief that no harm would come because, well: GHOSTS AREN’T REAL, RYAN.

Fuck, he even liked arguing with that idiot.

Their disagreeing beliefs, or lack thereof, were refreshing as well. It’s oddly frustrating when someone never differs in opinion. That’s why the term “Yes man,” has a negative connotation. Not many people enjoy having their ass kissed but constantly not being able to agree on things? Also fucking annoying. He enjoyed the open discussion he felt comfortable having. Debates were fun things to him. Not to win, but more to show that it doesn’t matter what you say as long as you’re confident in what you’re saying (within reason, of course.)

Public discourse was necessary to ensure society is just and fair, in his opinion. But private discourse, if you will, was necessary to ensure a bond was strong enough to withstand not agreeing on everything. As long as it's not a moral thing like certain people being undeserving of rights, who the fuck cares if they agree on ghosts being real or not.

All that mattered was that they were made for each other.

And just maybe, this whole soulmate thing made sense. His head was wrapping around the idea of it...of this “soulmate culture” thing. He wasn’t full-on tin foil hat, believe-in-everything crazy yet but...it didn’t seem so bad anymore. It wasn’t concrete in his head, it never truly would be (he is still Shane Madej after all,) but he liked believing in something. Especially when that something was as great as spending the whole life with Ryan Bergara because they complete each other.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! 
> 
> as i said in the beginning notes, ive been working on this for almost a month and wow...this was hard. 
> 
> obviously kudos & comments are more appreciated than youll ever know. 
> 
> love u all sm. 
> 
> -hayley


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